On October 25 1814, Lord Byron writes to Annabella Milbanke. A month has passed since Bryon has learned that she has accepted his marriage proposal, and he has not yet seen her. Very Strange.
Octr. 25th 1814
It is with great regret that I shall miss meeting Lord Wentworth at Seaham—but so it is—I could till now fix no precise day—and whatever appearance or consequences these delays may have or create—I must bear them.——Hanson whom I have been expecting & urging from day to day—now writes that he is ill—but will send his son—this will not do—it was his duty & is to be present and to meet Mr. Hoar in person—and he shall do so—or it shall be our last difference. Whether the man is mad—or only wishes to make me so—I know not—I have been acquainted with him since I was ten years old—which gives him a kind of claim upon what good-nature I possess—which he is pushing a little too far.—However—let that rest—I will set off on Saturday—and leave out Newstead & Newmarket on my way which I had at first intended to visit85—if I can get away a day before—it shall not be lost— but I fear that I cannot remain at Seaham under the present circumstances above a few days—nothing would have made me deliberate so long—but the hope that when we did meet—the previous pause would render parting again unnecessary—but these things we can discuss in person.———If you can—convince your father—that he cannot be more vexed than—no wonder he is so—in short I can only say that I meant all this for the best—and my meaning turns out I think like one of those “good intentions” with which the Portuguese proverb tells us that a certain place (never to be mentioned by
divines to “ears polite”) is paved————I make all my apologies to your father rather than to you— for I am very sure you know me too well—not to understand my feelings on the subject without further explanation——The very circumstances that might appear tardy on my part—are in fact a proof of my impatience for it was to render all further interruptions & delays unnecessary that I submitted to these.—But enough of this—if I am alive I will set out on Saturday.— ever most yrs.
P.S.—The oldest friend—that is the earliest though not the kindest I ever had—is now lying between life and death a few streets from me—she was seized with a fever and delirium about a fortnight ago—I only heard of this within these few days—her husband (from whom she was separated) & her mother are now with her—her life has been a melancholy one though on her part blameless—I have not seen her for several years—and probably never may again—nor do I wish it—but I always wished her happy & to live while life could make her so.——You will think my letter—at least the postscript a collection of casualties and melancholy accidents—but——did you know Lady Roseberry? very young—very pretty—& very unwise it should seem—for the “on dit” is that she has gone off with Sir H. Mildmay (her sister was his late wife) I foresaw this in the summer—and all I can now say—is— that I hope it is not come to pass—and it is not unlikely to be false having been in the Newspapers.—If it turns out so—I ask her pardon—& yours at any rate for repeating such gossip.———